


Careful Hands

by fangirl_screaming



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet, Bonding, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dorks in Love, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I try to be funny, I'm Sorry, Original Character(s), Rain, Sharing an umbrella, author uses big brain words, it's a tag now, no beta we die like Reuben, this was written on a whim, wait that isn't a tag, with this i have officially doubled the stories in the lukivia tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25419043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_screaming/pseuds/fangirl_screaming
Summary: Olivia thinks her day can't get any worse. She's already tired and hungry. Her best friend decides to change that. In both ways.
Relationships: Lukas/Olivia (Minecraft)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	Careful Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Wow uh  
> Hey

To Olivia, dancing was euphoric. 

  
Especially ballet. Letting the music envelop her and feeling the harmonies and beats of songs in her heart as she glided on the stage like a graceful swan was a sensation she never wanted to wake up from. Feeling the vibrations of energy in her veins, the ups and downs of the music and moving her body always brought her joy and put a bright smile on her face. She would liven up and her moves would be brisker when the music reached its peak, her face and motion would have mellowed as the music quieted down. Like a chameleon, she could adapt her emotions and channel the energy through her limbs according to the choreography and the overall timbre of the song. It was fun.

  
On the other hand, dancing was hard.

  
No matter how much she trained or how much she stretched, it was always a challenge. To calculate each step down to millimeters, to break the choreography down and remember even the slightest twitch of fingers, to balance the emotion and convey it just right, to keep core elements like the posture even in the hardest and the most impossible moves, to keep herself steady and strong even with the air basically knocked out of her lungs… definitely not things an average person could do at the same time. Even though she was practically used to it, it was still pretty exhausting for her.

  
That was the part that made ballet fun and enjoyable, right?

  
Well, yes.

  
But not today.

  
“Miss Boleyn!” With the substitute ballet teacher—Mister Knox—'s harsh yell Olivia gulped. She pressed her lips together, from both the effort she'd been making not to black out and the fact that she was in real big trouble.

  
“You have not been showing your usual performance!” the teacher continued, knitting his eyebrows. His heavy British accent crowning his voice made him even more threatening. “I expect you to show top notch performance if you want to keep your role as the lead. There are merely weeks left to the show and I will neither tolerate your sloppiness, nor risk the possibility of the show being an absolute disaster. If you keep up with this, I will, have to replace you with a student far more talented and eager.”

  
“I'm so sorry sir, I-"

  
“I do not want to hear your excuses!” Mister Knox cut her off. “I only want to hear that you have understood what I said.”

  
She sighed in defeat. “Yes, sir. I understand.” Her voice had come out barely louder than a mumble. The older male clapped and everyone except her and her partner Lukas walked down the stairs of the stage and sat on the seats. The girl's cheeks were burning with pure embarrassment as she walked back into the backstage. From across, her eyes caught the boy's concerned look he was shooting at her.

  
Of course, as her partner throughout the entire semester, they were bound to form at least some sort of bond between each other and they could tell if something was wrong practically instantly. 

  
The twist of her empty stomach forced Olivia to look away and she tried to concentrate the last bits of strength left in her to dancing. 

  
She… forgot to eat lunch.

  
She had an exam tomorrow in her normal school and rumor had it that it was going to be the most difficult exam the school would have ever prepared since its _inauguration_ (which dated back all the way to the 50s, and that meant at least _60 years_ of service. She was looking at the hardest math exam of the school in the past 60 years.). Waking up later than she planned, she only had time to eat a small breakfast before dedicating her entire focus on her textbooks. Her father had already left for work. She hadn’t even realized the time had come before her friend Riley called her ten minutes before the lesson started to ask her “where in the three rings of hell she was” and to tell her that the infamous Jacques Knox was going to attend their class instead of their usual teacher Miss Nuñez. She thanked God the stage they were practicing on wasn’t too far away. She had quickly worn her ballet suit under a weird combination of clothes she randomly grabbed from her closet, made a half-assed bun and rushed out of her house.

  
Without noticing that she had forgotten to grab a bite.

  
It was only halfway through the lesson she was hit with a wave of dizziness that nearly knocked her to the ground.

  
She was nearing the end of the last crumbs of energy left in her as time passed. With the addition of a cold and hollow feeling in her stomach and nausea, she was trying her best not to black out right then and there.

  
And at last, it was the final scene. The final scene and she could go home to eat.

  
The music started and the girl snapped out of her thoughts. She counted the song's beat—one, two, three, four— and she watched the blond boy slowly make his way on the stage. The music was tender and soft, the slow piano solo was weaved over several layers of violins, violas, violoncellos and contrabasses; occasional clarinet, bassoon and flute sounds accompanying the slow beat. One, two, three, four. He danced, he glided on the stage, he had every fiber of his muscles under control. Every move he made was perfect and graceful, as if every millisecond of them were calculated in mega computers. 

  
Then, he turned to look at her and Olivia could _swear_ her heart stopped beating for a moment. The lights of the stage engraved constellations in his blue eyes, stars were sprinkled in his golden hair; his lips formed a warm, gentle and welcoming smile.

  
One, two, three, four. Her already racing heart was beating even faster as the part where she came grew closer and closer.

  
Maybe the warmth of Lukas’ hands would temporarily distract her from the cold and empty feeling in her stomach. He stretched out his hand, calling to her from the stage.

  
One, two, three, four. That was her cue. The grey floor sprinkled with glitter felt smooth underneath her feet. The stage lights shining from the ceiling shone in her eyes. Slowly but surely, she walked towards him and placed her hand in his palm. His smile widening (or was she dreaming?), Despite being the same age, Lukas' hand was bigger than hers. Sparks shot through her body and the tips of her fingertips felt fuzzy as she grazed his palm. The boy grasped her hand and with a quick spin, she was on his other side.

  
They were tides, waves of the sea, pushing and pulling, in complete harmony with each other; sometimes coalescing with each other to create one, big wave and moving together. Their motions were swift yet clean and lively. Every detail was planned and gauged like an equation. (Olivia loved equations.) And as if the dizziness caused by the hunger wasn’t enough, she now had to deal with the enchanting feeling of warm hands against her shoulders, arms and waist. They danced, getting tangled in the melodies together.

  
One, two, three, four. There were mere beats (four eights, to be more specific) until the song was over. Their solo was coming to an end, like the rest of the rehearsal. Finally. The girl took a deep breath and collected herself for the final pose. It was a complex maneuver to perform, she forgot how many times she fell trying to keep her balance in the past. Lukas was lucky he wasn’t the one getting swept off his feet.

  
As the music faded, Olivia approached the middle of the stage She placed her right hand behind his head and the other one on his shoulder. One of Lukas' hands firmly gripped her waist and lifted her lower body up and pressed her chest against his. The girl's legs stood in a perfect 45 degrees angle, from both the ground and each other. His other arm went under her right arm and the hand gently stopped on the side of her face, his fingertips grazing the skin between her jawline and her ear. 

  
His breath on her lips smelt minty and fresh, his chest was irregularly going up and down against hers, his hands were slippery from the immense amount of sweat yet he was still holding her firmly. 

  
Their faces were inches apart from each other. Just one flick of a head was all it would take to make their lips meet. Just one.

  
She wondered if she had the courage in her to close the space.

  
Their classmates' clapping snapped her out of her thoughts. Gently set her down back on her feet, Lukas’ beam was replaced with a frown of concern upon noticing her (unintentional) fatigued expression. They both settled on the opposite edges of the stage and grabbed a bottle of water. Cold air replaced the boy's warmth, making her unintentionally shiver.

  
“That’s more like it.” Even though it wasn’t visible, a hint of a smile was evident in Mister Knox's voice. Olivia, however, was too busy gulping her dizziness away, and she thanked the instructor with a nod. 

  
“Anyone has a correction or a suggestion to make?” he asked to the rest of the class. “Do they have a mistake that I missed seeing?” Even though most of the students didn’t like this last part of the rehearsal, it was something Olivia admired (but not that particular lesson, she just wanted to go home). After every lesson, the teachers would ask the rest of the sitting people if they had any opinions on how the students onstage performed. Usually, there would be no replies to this question, criticism from students were seldom since no one would pay attention (correction: No one would be energized enough to pay attention). But this time, an enthusiastic hand rose up from the crowd.

  
“Yes, Miss Edinburgh?” It was Riley, out of all people. The dark-skinned girl raised an eyebrow at what her best friend was going to say.

  
“So, I watched the original show a couple of days ago with my parents,” the blonde girl started speaking, her chirpy suave voice filling the auditorium. The sleepy people sitting next to her jumped from her loud voice suddenly blaring near their ears. “And since the academy is really insistent about keeping it as close to the original as possible, I suggest the two leads should _kiss_.”

  
Olivia instantly shot a murderous glare at the blonde girl, only to be responded with a sinister grin and an innocent “what-did-I-do?” shrug.

  
_You little piece of-_

  
Mister Knox rubbed his chin. “That is a brilliant idea, actually, Miss Edinburgh,” he said after a while. “If Mister Howard and Miss Boleyn consent to it, there should be no problem.”

  
“If Olivia's fine with it-”

  
“If Lukas is fine with it-”

They both stopped and looked at each other. _Of course. The mother of all romance film clichés, talking at the same time._ Her being one of Mister Knox's favorite students didn’t help either. She should've known; Riley would make them kiss sooner or later, by fair means or foul. Just then, she regretted ever admitting that she had a crush on him. 

  
The dark-haired girl shot one last glare at her friend as Mister Knox nodded, “Alright then, it's settled,” he said. “Class dismissed.” Everyone got up from where they were sitting and headed to their changing rooms.

* * *

  
_Of course_ it was raining. Why would it not rain in this miserable excuse of a day in her life? Olivia sighed as she collapsed on one of the leather couches of the lobby just as she felt the last bit of energy given her by water fade away. The light the rain drops bent reflected off the smooth beige wallpaper of the room. The fancy lantern hanging on the ceiling wasn’t lit. Her hair—which she had just tied into loose pigtails instead of a bun—bounced on her shoulder. She rested her head back, untangling her earphones blindly and plucking one of her ears. She browsed her playlists, clicked on one and closed her eyes. Her foot tapped on the wooden floor with the rhythm. The only source of light was the filtered sunlight leaking from the windows, making it easier for her to close her eyes.

  
There were at least 30 minutes until her father arrived (usually that time would be passed with her and Riley chatting but Riley apparently had “important things" to do—Olivia knew that she was lying to avoid being murdered in the lobby by hers truly—so she had left early), so why wouldn’t she make the most of the tranquility of the lobby? Music mixed with the feint sound of rainfall against the windows… perfect for a post-ballet relaxing session. She’d rather go home as soon as possible, though.

  
After a while, she felt the couch dip next to her. She opened her eyes and looked at her left. Lukas apologetically waved at her, his lips pressed against each other.

  
“Uh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Olivia paused her music.

  
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she responded. “I was just… listening to some music.”

  
“Can I listen too? If you don't mind, of course.” Hesitantly, the girl gave the other ear to him. She liked keeping her music preferences to herself more than sharing them, but hey. She was with Lukas.

  
How bad could it be? 

  
“You may not like it,” she warned, chuckling, “people say I have… obscure tastes.” The boy raised his eyebrows as he took the earphone. Olivia pressed the play button and she leaned back. She nervously watched Lukas' face throughout the whole song to get a reaction.

  
His expression was serene, his blue eyes pensively gazed towards the dimmer part of the lobby where the academy logo was hanging. At one point, he closed his eyes as a tenuous beam curled on his lips. He lightly rocked back and forth along the beat. Olivia couldn’t help but admire how idyllic he looked. He opened his eyes as the song came to an end and gave her the earphone back.

  
“‘Obscure’? Olivia, ‘ _obscure_ '? This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard!” She laughed in a bashful manner, scratching the back of her neck and muttering a “thank you".

  
“So, will you tell me who this mysterious and talented man with a great voice is?”

  
“That was ‘Pacific Blues’ by ‘Sleeping at Last’,” she answered. “I'm glad you liked it.” A rather loud rumble (coming from Olivia's stomach) suddenly punctured through the silence between them. Giggling, Lukas shuffled through his bag and pulled out a small sandwich. 

  
“By the way, I think you should he this,” he said, extending it to her, then added when her hesitant expression caught his eye, “I already ate one, but my mom insisted on giving me a second one. Don’t worry, I didn't poison it.” 

  
She took the sandwich in an instant and dove right in, and laughed with her mouth full at his joke (she hesitated to eat a few seconds after the last bite, though). 

  
A little later, they heard the cheerful ringtone of Lukas' phone played in the empty lobby. He took it out or his pocket, slid his finger on the screen and put it on his ear.

  
“Yes, mom?” He stayed silent for a while, listening to his mom talk. His face fell a bit.

  
“Oh… how much will you be late?” His face dropped even more. Wiping her hands with a napkin, Olivia spoke.

  
“Y'know, you can come with us if your mom will be late. My father’s going to arrive in a few minutes.” The boy turned to look at her and lowered the phone.

  
“Wait, really?”

  
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I mean, you don't live too far away from us, as far as I know. Plus, I can pay you back for the sandwich this way.” He put the phone back on his ear.

  
“Olivia's offering to drop me off,” he said. “Is that fine with you?” 

  
“Anyway, I guess we should wait for your father inside,” he stated, pointing at the window. The rain still hadn't stopped. The girl nodded and gave the other earplug to the blond again. 

  
The duo finally spotted a white car park at the parking space a little away from the stage. A tall man with raven curly hair and a lab jacket got out of the car and jogged towards the building, holding an umbrella. Olivia hurriedly got her earbud back as the man entered the building.

  
“Hi, dad,” she greeted him and waved her hand. The man smiled back at his daughter and closed the umbrella.  
“How was the rehearsal?” he asked her, and silently greeted Lukas with his head when they made eye contact. He had a deep voice which was crowned with a sympathetic accent.

  
“It was good,” she answered, yet she looked a bit nervous. “Anyway… this is Lukas.” She gestured to the blond boy and he awkwardly shook his hand. Mister Boleyn—confused—waved back. 

  
“Hey… Lukas. The other lead, right?” He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mister Boleyn.”

  
“Would you mind if we dropped him off? His mother said she was going to be late, so I told him he could come with us.” She added after a while, “I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you.” 

  
Mister Boleyn shrugged and looked at the boy. “There’s room for one more in the car. Hop on in, kid.” Lukas grabbed his back as well and they both stood up. The older male stopped them right before they got out, it was still raining.

  
“I didn't know we were having a guest, so I only brought two umbrellas.” He opened his as he handed the other one to the duo. “Hope you don't mind,” he added apologetically.

  
The duo exchanged awkward glances that weren't broken until Lukas—rather clumsily—took the umbrella and they got outside the building. The raindrops rapidly hit the teal roof of their umbrellas, the wind bashed against their bodies. Olivia shuddered and snuggled more into her (obnoxiously vivid-colored) red sweater as a chill seeped through her.

  
“Whoa-!" A sudden yelp on her side made her jolt, and her hand immediately clasped over the umbrella's shaft that had moved upwards because of the sudden wave of air. What she felt under her palms was, however, not the metallic feeling of the pole. It was a rather… fleshy and squishy texture.

  
She glanced at the umbrella, only to notice the “squishy thing" under her palm was Lukas' hand wrapped around the umbrella. A blush crawled up her neck and she immediately let go of the boy's hand, gripping the shaft slightly over his hand.

  
“Be careful,” she chuckled, looking at him. “You nearly lost our umbrella.” 

  
“Alright, I got it.”

  
“We’re here!” They jolted with Mister Boleyn's sudden announcement. They closed their umbrellas and settled on the backseats whereas the man took the driver's seat. He started the car, and the trio started moving over the empty street.

  
“So, which way is your home?” asked the older male when they came by the main road. Lukas gestured at the roundabout a bit further away.

  
“Go through the third exit from the roundabout, go straight and turn right from the fourth street. It should be the 420th street. You can drop me off at the beginning.”

  
“You're not that far away from us, that's nice. I don’t think we should leave you without any protection in the rain, though. It would be very unfortunate if you get sick, you have to be in perfect form for the show next week.” The blond coyly thanked him.

  
“You're really kind, sir,” he added. Mister Boleyn just chuckled. 

  
“No problem.” Soft music from the radio mixed with the sound of rain hitting the roof of the car. Neither of them spoke, they were too exhausted to say anything else. Olivia had rested her head on the window and was watching the trees recede as they moved. Lukas' head was rested back on the head of his seat, his eyes closed. Olivia's dad—even though Olivia knew he was fatigued from work—scanned the road with calm yet alert eyes as he drove.

  
“Hey, Lukas?” With a poke on his left shoulder, the boy opened his eyes and looked at the girl, humming inquiringly. 

  
“We came to the street, which one is your house?” He looked outside at the familiar houses. That was quick, he thought. The car had relatively slowed down as well, reluctantly moving across the street in case they miss the house.

  
“It's all the way at the end, the white house with the blue streaks,” he replied and shouldered his backpack as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He smiled at the older man through the front mirror.

  
“Thank you so much again,” he said. “Really.” 

  
“Don't mention it, sport. Anyone who's a good friend of Olivia is welcome.” He chuckled one last time before the car stopped in front of said house. Just as Lukas opened the door, a hand gripped his wrist and he felt the plastic beginning of an umbrella in his palm.

  
“You can bring it back the next rehearsal,” the girl said behind him. “Just like Dad said, we can’t risk you getting sick. See you next week!”

  
“I'll be careful about that,” he laughed as he stepped outside. “See you too.” He opened the teal umbrella and got out. Raindrops started harshly hitting the roof again. He shut the door, waving at her one last time, and walked towards his house. The car did a u turn and drove the opposite side it came from, the tires splashed water as they moved through the street. Lukas quickly got under the roof over the porch and closed the umbrella.

  
“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, his hands fumbling his pockets for the house key. He watched the car move farther and farther, a small smile tugged on his lips. “See you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried describing this pose specifically, I'm dropping this here to avoid any confusion: http://www.balletposition.com/blog/irek-mukhamedov-a-life-renewed
> 
> I'm sorry I tried describing it as best as I could but I was still rather unhappy with the result


End file.
